


If You Want Me

by lovepollution



Category: The Split (TV 2018)
Genre: Adultery, Affairs, Backstory, Betrayal, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Canon Universe, Cheating, During Canon, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Fade to Black, Forbidden Love, Gap Filler, Guilt, Headcanon, Implied/Referenced Sex, In Character, Kissing, Lawyers, London, Love, Missing Scene, One Shot, Partner Betrayal, Pillow Talk, Plothole Fill, Post-Season/Series 01, Pre-Season/Series 02, References to Canon, Reflection, Romance, Stolen Moments, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:35:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24137476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovepollution/pseuds/lovepollution
Summary: “If you want me...” She unconsciously held her breath, still inexplicably flustered over the implications that her offer carried. “I can...stay.” She exhaled. “I can stay on Saturday night.”
Relationships: Hannah Stern/Christie Carmichael
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	If You Want Me

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because a) I really like Hannah and Christie as a couple and b) because it bugged me that Hannah left her face cream etc. over at Christie's, even though there was no indication she'd ever spent the night there, so I rectified that.

After a long lunch meeting, Hannah returned to her office with a sense of relief; she was sure that no amount of paperwork could be as testing as trying to get two people at loggerheads to settle on divorce terms, especially when she felt an increasing tension headache coming on throughout. Rolling her neck, she sat down ready to start work, only to glance at her computer monitor and see a Post-It note written unmistakably by Christie’s hand:

‘Miss you x’

Just in case she hadn’t known it was him, he’d decided to helpfully doodle some tulips underneath the words.

Depending on her mood, Hannah went between finding these messages sweet and thoughtful to over-the-top and irritating. The days they annoyed her tended to be the ones on which she most hated herself for what she was doing to her husband; today however, she was just too tired to fight against the rush she got knowing that Christie had been thinking of her. Nevertheless, she quickly removed the yellow paper and balled it up before disposing of it in the waste paper basket lest anyone else see it. 

“Hi,” Hannah said, after slipping into Christie’s office as discreetly as she could, shutting the door behind her with added care.

“Hey,” he replied, quickly looking up from the work on his desk, a smile on his face due to her presence. “I missed you this morning.”

“Yeah, I overslept,” she sighed, explaining her absence from the gym. “Then I was late for work, so I had to dash straight to that meeting...”

He nodded. “You look worried.” His brow creased in sympathy with her. “Stressful day?”

“Yeah, erm...” Hannah rubbed at a point of tension on her brow. “The McConnell meeting ran long at lunch, they can’t seem to decide on terms. Plus, I’ve got this headache...”

“Here,” he motioned to the secluded seating nook, with its artfully scattered yellow cushions, in the corner of his office. Sitting together, Christie moved his body sideways and motioned for Hannah to do the same. Once her back was facing him, he moved his hands to her shoulders and pressed his thumbs into the knotted muscles, repeating the action as he moved his hands upwards towards her neck.

“Ugh...” she half moaned, closing her eyes and savouring the sensation for a few seconds before she forced herself back to reality, reluctantly prying her eyes open. “I should get back to work… Anyone could walk in...”

In response, Christie got up and quietly clicked the lock on the door closed. “Not anymore.” He grinned slyly, sliding back down onto the seat besides her.

“Christie...” Hannah protested weakly, as his lips narrowed the space towards hers.

The kissing quickly became heated, hands went to hair and tongues entwined. Searching for the feel of Hannah’s skin, Christie’s deftly untucked the back of her blouse from her skirt and his hand snaked underneath.

Hannah pulled herself away shaking her head. “We should…” she said, slightly out of breath and thoroughly rumpled. Doing her best to regain her composure, she tucked her silk blouse back in.

“Stop, right,” Christie reluctantly conceded. 

Once she’d made herself more presentable, Hannah sat further back against the cushions and took his hand. “Two more minutes?” she sheepishly asked, going against her better judgement but defeated by her desire for more intimacy.

“Two more minutes,” he echoed back. Smiling, he pulled her towards him and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. They sat in silence for a while, breathing in sync and eyes closed. Hannah idly played with the soft tufts of hair at the nape of his neck, whilst his thumb traced soothing circles on her shoulder.

“This weekend....” she finally broke the quiet. “Nathan is away at a conference, and Liv is still on that school trip to Barcelona.” She swallowed. “Tillie has a sleepover on Saturday night, so Rose said she’d take Vinnie to give me some time to myself...”

“You mean…?” he turned to look her in the eye, his eyebrows raised in genuine surprise.

“If you want me...” She unconsciously held her breath, still inexplicably flustered over the implications that her offer carried. “I can...stay.” She exhaled. “I can stay on Saturday night.”

“I always want you!” The sheer joy on his face made Hannah's heart both flutter and ache. Beaming, Christie went in for a brief but powerful kiss. “I can cook for us,” he told her, his brain started brimming with ideas. “There is this Thai recipe I’ve been wanting to try…”

“Since when do you cook?” Hannah asked with genuine surprise.

“I’ll have you know, I’ve got a lot of hidden talents, Hannah Defoe.” Hannah bristled slightly at his use of her maiden name, but let it go uncorrected for the sake of ruining the mood.

“Well, maybe...you can show me a few on Saturday night,” she flirted with an uncharacteristic playfulness, her finger tracing his jawline.

“I think that can be arranged,” Christie flirted back, adding a lingering kiss.

“We really should get back to work,” she said, finally pulling away.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he reluctantly agreed, as they both stood. “But Saturday,” he said, with a smile so wide it could rival the Cheshire Cat. “It’s gonna be great.”

Hannah nodded and turned the lock on the door before opening it. “Saturday,” she echoed with a smile, leaving with a spring in her step, despite the large pile of documents that were awaiting her on her desk.

The weekend came around slower than Hannah wished it to, but when it finally arrived, she found herself on tender hooks waiting for Nathan to leave for his conference after breakfast.

“Right, I should get going, the train leaves at 10,” Nathan said to her, chewing his final mouthful of toast and taking one last sip of coffee. “I’ll be back Sunday evening, I think my train leaves about 6.”

“OK, try not to have too much fun,” Hannah joked, still on edge.

“Oh yeah, a conference on surrogacy law is sure to be a blast,” he deadpanned, giving Hannah a quick kiss on the lips, before giving a squirming Vinnie and Tillie - distracted playing a video game - a kiss each on the head. “You two behave, especially you,” he directed his comments towards Vinnie, “for your aunt Rose. And no wild parties while you’ve got house to yourself,” he jokingly directed at Hannah, who could only grimace a smile thinking of what she would actually be doing that evening.

As she buzzed Christie’s flat later that day, Hannah did her best to push any guilt to the back of her mind, telling herself to be present and enjoy the time they would have together.

“Hey,” he beamed, leaning forward to kiss her quickly before ushering her upstairs as he followed behind.

Hannah placed her things down after entering upstairs and took in her surroundings: he’d cooked she could both smell and see, the table already set up, complete with candles.

“This looks...amazing. You really made this?” she asked, genuinely shocked he’d developed such skills. “Are you sure you’re not hiding stacks of takeaway containers in the bin?” she ribbed him gently.

Christie held up his hands in a gesture of innocence. “I swear, I’ve even got the dirty pans to prove it.” He gestured for Hannah to take a seat, before taking one himself, and he leaned across the table and placed food on her plate. 

“You’ve come a long way in the last 20 years,” she remarked. “I seem to remember your specialty then was what you called ‘Pot Noodle Surprise’.” Christie laughed before shaking his head and scratching his beard. “I never was sure what the ‘surprise’ was…” Hannah continued.

“The surprise was there was no surprise, it was just a Pot Noodle.” Hannah, acting like she’d just heard a bad joke, chuckled silently and shook her head. “Hey,” Christie continued, “I remember thinking that was pretty clever at the time. I told a couple of girls I was seeing back then, they laughed.”

“I think,” Hannah said, leaning forward to close the gap between them, “they were probably more interested in your skills _outside_ the kitchen.”

“Oh yeah,” he raised an eyebrow, and leaned forward to kiss her..

“We really should eat,” Hannah said eventually. “You’ve gone to so much effort…”

“Alright,” he reluctantly agreed, “but I’m going to remember where I was for later, and that’s a promise.” He sealed his words with a final kiss.

“That really was as good as it looked,” Hannah remarked, as she sat on the sofa post-dinner. Christie came to sit next to her and handed her a glass of red wine.

“When I was with Lauren, she liked to do most of the cooking, so I never really got much chance.” Realising the person he had just discussed, he went into apology. “Shit, I’m sorry...now is not the time for me to talk about my ex-wife.”

“It’s fine,” Hannah said, unconcerned but now thinking of a subject she’d been meaning to broach. “Were you...happy, with Lauren?”

“Sure, once,” he gave a casual shrug, “but...it was never going to last.”

Hannah swallowed and looked down and Christie knew implicitly what she was thinking of: his relationships with other women while he was still a married man.

“You do know that I would never go behind your back, right?”

“I…” Hannah was flustered. “I don’t know why we’re even having this conversation…”

“I fucked up,” he stated matter of fact. “I sabotaged my marriage to Lauren because she wasn’t the one for me and I was too much of a coward to confront it. But I’m with you now, here, like this,” he motioned to their surroundings, “because it’s the only way I can be with you. If you asked, I’d run away with you and never look back.”

“I know you would.” She cupped his face and kissed him tenderly.

Christie’s face was still inches from hers when he began to talk again, his tone less frantic than before. “I’m not in this because I get some kick out of it being this…” he frowned, “illicit thing. You and me, that’s it for me Hannah. I don’t want anyone else. I never have.”

Hannah smiled sadly, knowing every word was true. He’d told her what she most wanted to hear, but still it tore her in two.

“I miss your dark hair,” Christie said, when the mood grew still, as he idly let the highlighted strands of her hair fall through his fingers. “When I’d think of you, it would always be with dark hair.”

“I didn’t picture you so...grey either,” she fired back mischievously, touching the hair at his temples.

Christie snorted and rolled his eyes, before he stilled and kissed her forehead tenderly. “But hair colour doesn’t matter as long as you’re in my life.”

His sweet words gave Hannah that ache in her heart again.

“You…” she began another question that had been on her mind. “Did you...think of me much?” Christie was neither shocked or reluctant to give her the answer.

“From time-to-time...sometimes when some song would come on the radio that reminded me of when we knew each other, but...there were other times too.” He considered his words for a moment. “I’d have ruined yet another relationship, and I’d lie there in bed at night and wonder, ‘What if?’, you know?”

Hannah nodded empathetically because she knew exactly what he meant. “I do.” She steadied herself before the confessions she was about to make. “I’d do it too…on those nights when I just couldn’t sleep, no matter what I tried...I’d just lie, staring at the shadows on the ceiling and...wonder. I’d wonder if maybe I’d been less of a coward.” Christie flinched a little hearing the word he’d called her weeks ago out of frustration used, but if Hannah noticed she didn’t acknowledge it outside of a brief pause. “If maybe...things could’ve worked between us, how life might’ve been…”

“What did you decide?” he asked softly, while he stroked her hair.

Hannah took a deep breath. “That we might have made it. But,” she laughed, “knowing you, I thought we’d probably be somewhere exciting halfway across the world, no kids or mortgage to tie us down.”

Christie chuckled before speaking, his voice little more than a whisper: “I think I might’ve wanted a mortgage and,” he swallowed, “kids...if they were with you.”

There it was, the feeling of Hannah’s heartbreaking all over again. She kissed him solidly, partly because she didn’t know what to say, but mainly because she wanted to feel something other than the gut wrenchingly painful guilt his words caused her to experience.

The kissing melded into hands in hair and clothes being shed.

“Bedroom?” he asked breathlessly.

“Mmm,” Hannah answered, unwilling to keep her mouth from his for a second longer than it needed to be.

Christie had attuned himself easily to Hannah’s body; those years of being something of a playboy had taught him well when it came to signals he was doing the right thing. His skills weren’t lost on Hannah, who was even more acutely aware than before that sex with Nathan wasn’t the best, and never had been. For years, she’d told herself she’d over romanticised her encounter with Christie the night before her wedding, but it turned out the electricity between them had been real, and it was still there.

It was funny how in a matter of weeks, their having sex together in this bed had become so familiar and comfortable. Actually sleeping together though, had been something they’d been unable to do since that stolen night after Rose’s wedding.

There had been many nights when Christie had imagined what it would be like to have Hannah here with him, but he’d had to settle for secretive text exchanges while she lay next to her husband. To finally have her in his arms again, to fall asleep with her and know hers would be the first face he’d see when he awoke, was a different kind of joy.

Hours later, when he woke, the bed next to Christie was empty. Panic rose in his throat briefly, before he saw Hannah walking back into the bedroom.

“They don’t show this bit in films,” she said, whilst she walked towards the bed, gliding the makeup wipe over her eyes. “The part where _after_ the sex, you fall asleep but wake up with panda eyes and garlic breath from the pad Thai you ate earlier...so you do the cold, awkward shuffle to the bathroom in an oversized t-shirt and no knickers.”

Christie laughed and patted the bed beside him. “Come back to bed.”

“Yeah, just a minute.” She sat on the bed, placing the wipe down and reached around to pull her hair from its ponytail. After placing the hair tie down, she reached for her face cream, unscrewing the lid and applying it with muscle memory.

“I like seeing you like this,” he said, as he reached to brush her shoulder.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, it’s very glamorous,” she joked, even though she knew him well enough to know that glamour wasn’t what he was searching for.

“No, but it’s real. I like real.”

They locked eyes, but Hannah found herself having to look away while Christie looked on, the moment suddenly too heavy for her to take. She put the cream down and slipped back beneath the covers.

“I hate to tell you this...” she stated playfully, her finger tracing his lips. “But…” she wrinkled her nose in mock disgust, “you could use a toothbrush too.”

Christie chuckled and gave her a quick peck on the lips. “I’ll be right back.”

Hannah watched as he located his boxers on the floor and slipped them on. As she watched him walk away, she shamelessly admired his physique. She scolded herself for thinking it, but he was in better shape than Nathan. But then Christie has always been naturally athletic in build and ability; he’d even been in a couple of sports teams during their time at uni, whereas Nathan had stuck to the library and only ran when he was later for a lecture.

She was taken back to images of when they’d all first met: the first time she’d seen Christie, she was immediately attracted to him. With his shoulder length blonde hair and bad boy charm - complete with the small gold hoop he wore in his right ear lobe - she was gone. But she was with Nathan, she knew nothing could happen, not that she anticipated Christie would ever see her in that way.

Still, she remembered the feeling of jealousy that would stab her sharply when she’d see yet another of Christie’s paramours slinking to the bathroom in nothing but one of his Nirvana t-shirts. It was stupid, she and Christie were nothing but good friends she reasoned to herself a the time, but the pain she felt was undeniable.

The attraction she had to Nathan had grown over time; he was tall and dark and oddly stylish in his way - opting for traditional shirts and trousers over t-shirts and jeans - but he was also bookish and awkward. But, the more Hannah got to know him, she discovered he was funny and clever, and so different to every other student she’d met. He was the kind of boy you wanted to take to meet your parents - the one you could picture a future with - not like Christie who always seemed a dangerous wildcard.

Breaking her thoughts, Christie returned to the bedroom and hurriedly slipped into the bed besides her..

“Minty fresh,” he said with a grin, as he leaned in for a kiss.

“You,” she said, as her finger traced his jaw, “need to trim that beard. You’re going to give me a rash.”

“Eh,” he shrugged off her comment and continued by kissing her neck. “Maybe that’s my plan, that way everyone will know you’re already taken.”

It was a joke, but she stilled for a second, jolted momentarily back to the reality she was very much committed to another. Christie sensed her thoughts and stopped his ministrations before he went to speak, but Hannah’s mouth on his cut him off; now, she thought, was not the time for awkward apologies that would only lead to a serious exchange.

“We should at least try and get _some_ sleep,” she eventually told him, ever the practical one in their relationship.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed, hunkering down further with Hannah. “I wish this was every night,” he murmured sleepily into her ear as he drifted off, her head laying on his chest.

Hannah just lay, staring at the ceiling while Christie’s breathing slowed and he slipped into sleep, feeling terrified because she wished it could be every night too.

Christie woke a couple of hours later to find the space next to him disappointingly empty again, but it didn’t take long for him to locate the woman he was missing: there she was, sitting stilly on the balcony. Climbing out of bed, he threw on a t-shirt and went to join her.

“I thought you might be cold,” he said, handing her a blanket which she quickly wrapped around herself.

“Thanks,” she smiled looking up at him. “There’s room for one more,” she offered with the tilt of her head, shifting slightly on the seat and holding the blanket open. Christie took the invitation eagerly and slipped in besides her before they repositioned and he ended up behind, his arms wrapped around her and his head tilted slightly looking over her right shoulder.

“Trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah, I thought I’d try and read through this,” she gestured to the paperback of The Marriage by Jack Brodeur beside her, “but...my mind isn’t really on it.”

They took in the view silently for a minute. The sights of pre-dawn London stretched below: a few stragglers only just making their way home with high heels in hand. There they sat, enjoying a calm peace, wishing the stolen moment it could stretch forever.

“I’ll have to go soon,” Hannah said with hushed reluctance, as the sun threatened to peek up on the horizon. “Nathan won’t be home until later, but I’ve got to get back before the kids...”

Christie nodded, a silent acknowledgement over an audible one making the fact he was accepting she’d be going soon less jarring.

“I watched the sun come up in Paris once. I must have been...28 or 29 when I worked there?” He frowned in thought momentarily before his gaze drifted as he recalled days of yore. “Anyway, it was one of those crazy nights that rolled over into the morning.”

“And meanwhile,” Hannah said in sarcastic jest, “here I was changing nappies and trying to get baby vomit out of my hair.”

Christie grew quiet for a moment, not sure how to respond; to tell her he would rather have been doing that, with her, didn’t feel right.

“Paris is beautiful this time of year,” he eventually remarked. “I wish I’d had more free time to enjoy it outside of the nightlife.”

“I’ve never actually been.”

“We should go…” he swallowed, “someday.”

“And fulfil every romantic cliche in the book?” Hannah said dryly, brow raised.

He gave her a gentle elbow nudge. “C’mon, it’d be fun… You, me and the Champs-Élysées…” His eyes twinkled with glee as he spoke.

“Hm,” she reluctantly accepted, not wanting to dampen his excitement; perhaps it would be a disagreement for another time.

They sat quietly, as Christie worked up the courage to say what he wanted to.

“Do you ever think about...the future?” he finally asked. “That is if you want this, us, to have a future…”

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out, she collected herself and tried again, “I do...want a future for us. But I don’t know…” Her lips pursed in concentration. “I don’t… I couldn’t…” she stumbled over her words, unable to convey answers she didn’t possess.

“How isn’t important, I just need to know you want it too. I want to be,” he searched for his words, “bored by you. I want to argue about loading the dishwasher and leaving wet towels on the bathroom floor,” Hannah chuckled as he brushed her cheek and continued, “but most of all, I want a life with you by my side.”

“I want that too.” The mood had become serious quickly and Hannah felt the need to disperse it, lest she have to really think about what she was doing and the waves it could send crashing in so many parts of her life. “But for the record,” she angled his chin up a degree with the guide of her index finger, “it’s never my job to load the dishwasher.”

He chuckled before he leaned in and kissed her.

After Christie cooked them both breakfast, they showered together - a detour Hannah tried to protest against, but the idea was honestly too appealing to resist, even if it meant she’d be an hour later getting home - and she packed up her clothes.

As Hannah was walking out of the bedroom, Christie stopped her.

“You forgot your things,” he said, motioning to the bedside table that still held a distinctly Hannah collection of books, face creams, hair ties and makeup wipes.

She paused in thought for a moment. “Keep them...for next time,” she finished the sentence like it was a question, but Christie’s smile, with his eyes shining warmly, was the only answer that was needed.

“I’ll see you at the gym, tomorrow morning?” he asked, standing in his doorway as Hannah stood on the street, overnight bag in hand.

She nodded in reply and gave him a lingering kiss, doing her best to delay her departure.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave,” he sighed, as he cupped her face tenderly..

“Me too,” she told him with complete honesty, her expression one of a woman resigned to her fate.

Christie was silent for a few seconds, still looking into her eyes. “I…” he started, only to be cut off by Hannah, who could feel in her bones what the next two words would be.

“Don’t…” she fumbled with what to say. “I can’t...not now…” The wounded look on his face destroyed her. “It’s not that I don’t…” ‘love you’ she completed the sentence mentally as she tried to explain without using the words, “but I just can’t hear that… not right now.”

“It’s OK,” he nodded. “Just know...I do.”

He looked slightly embarrassed to have made the confession, and it made Hannah want to tell him that she loved him too; that she’d leave Nathan and they could escape somewhere together forever. But, of course, she couldn’t.

She kissed him again, giving him one last sad smile as he cupped her face before she picked up her bag and began the journey home. 

She had returned home and was unlocking the door when she heard a noise. Placing her bag down, she turned to look and saw a familiar face sitting on top of the bin: there was the fox, still and knowing, looking her dead in the eye and reflecting her judgment back at her.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! I tried my best to keep everyone in character. My idea of young Christie comes from [these images of younger Barry Atsma](https://imgur.com/a/JGjWG5T), and since we know he did have long hair, it's totally canon. (You can check out the young Hannah and Christie manip I made [here](https://lovepollution.tumblr.com/post/614667487131385856/i-made-a-thing-young-hannah-and-christie-the).)
> 
> I'm planning to write a one-shot of the famous pre-wedding night, but I also have an idea for a post-s2 fix-it; so if you're interested, please let me know because encouragement is never not needed. :)
> 
> Finally, if you're looking for more Hannah/Christie, find my gifsets [here on Tumblr](https://lovepollution.tumblr.com/tagged/ts%20gifsets).


End file.
